Imagine Dragons
by Myrielle
Summary: A series of AU one-shots featuring the misadventures of Freyja and Alduin as they make their way through Skyrim. Basically fun, fluff and crack prompts which will never be featured in Dragonrend.
1. The Smaug Effect: Part 1

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios and I own nothing at all except for the OC and plot. There is no profit made at all, really.

Summary: A series of AU one-shots featuring the misadventures of Freyja and Alduin as they make their way through Skyrim. Basically fun, fluff and crack prompts which will never be featured in Dragonrend. Rated for heavy UST, compromising positions and scenarios, and possible smut.

Genre: Adventure/Humour

_A/N: Okay, I admit. This is just shameless fun. Whatever. This first part is totally inspired by Smaug from The Hobbit. I loved the idea of dragons nesting and rolling around in hedonistic pleasure in their treasure troves and thought, "Hey, why not Skyrim too? Why not the Dragonborn?" And it was a chance to get Freyja naked with Alduin. I'm not sorry. _

_Having said this, I am inviting readers to hit me with their best prompts (**Please don't PM me; leave the prompt in your review so that others can see it and not repeat prompts**) . I cannot do anything hardcore or very dark, my Muse is just delicate that way. Having said that, the next part of this will have to do with pollen. Pollen that makes people, even dragons, want to make like rabbits. That floats the boat for the Muse. Or, if there were "what if?" questions for certain things in Dragonrend which you think can be explored here, let me know too. I don't guarantee that I can do every suggestion, but I will try my best to. _

**IMAGINE DRAGONS**

**I. The Smaug Effect**

I had been expecting the smell of blood, dead bodies or the mangled, piteous remains of some poor soul that had been kept alive long enough only to feed the cannibalistic bandits that Alduin and I had just slaughtered. I killed them simply because eating one's own kind was...vile, to put it lightly. I'd wiped out Namira's followers at Reachcliff Cave for the same reason and I hadn't been about to spare the men who had ambushed Alduin, Shadowmere and I as we'd been picking our way down the steep and winding path. A small shudder coursed through me as I watched the great stone door recede and shake as it began to sink down into the ground. The bandit leader had crowed about enjoying me in other ways before finally eating me, at least until he realised that his men had chewed off more than they could handle. 'Bad pun fully intended,' I thought grimly, unable to fully shake the satisfaction I had felt when Alduin's blade had severed the man's head from his shoulders with such force that it had flown over the cliff's edge. I had intended to gut the bastard myself but ended up settling for finishing off four of his men while Alduin ended the other three.

The hidden room was utterly dark; the weak glow from the campfire we had set up barely licked the edges of the shadows. Seeing an unlit sconce next to me, I stepped into the blackness, fingers ablaze with a gentle flame which I touched to the wick. A low, rich golden glow spread through the room; something glittered brightly, reminiscent of the pure white stars and blue streaks of fire that occasionally blazed through the night skies. I froze. Barely breathing, I lit a second sconce. And my mouth watered. To think I had almost failed to notice this place thanks to the clever concealment of the chain behind some hanging moss. Now I realised why the bandits had taken such pains to keep it hidden.

Gold. Lots and lots and lots of gold. A huge shiny mound of it piled right smack in the middle of the room with scattered piles of septims all around. It looked like a golden pool, shimmering with seductive lustre, bathed in the rosy glow of the sconces. There was the musical clink of coins crunching beneath my boots as I stepped back, groping blindly for the chain to seal the door once again. Instinct demanded it of me and I was far too overwhelmed with fascinated hunger to question why. And as though to tempt me further, there were rich gems scattered here and there, sapphires with their deep serene blue hues, fiery rubies that seemed to draw the light into their very centres and delicious emeralds the colour of deep green summer leaves.

There was no denying that I adored treasure. As much as I disliked underground crypts and caves, I went in because there was either a job to finish, a clue to gain or a Word Wall that beckoned. It also helped a great deal that the draugr I battled dropped the occasionally gem and more frequently, and for reasons yet explained, usually had a few septims on them. Dusty, yes, but still gold and dear to my heart. Whether it was my dragon soul or the weakness of my mortal flesh was an issue I had long consigned to the back of my mind.

A quick glance at the entrance confirmed that it was sealed shut. I licked my dry lips, felt the quick excited flutter of my heart against my ribs. There had been something I had always wanted to do, some inexplicable desire that had manifested itself several times in my dreams. But there had never been a time, or a place, and the chests in Breezehome, though stuffed full of enchanted weapons, heavy coin purses and precious gems, had remained untouched by me because Lydia was always at home when I was and I could possibly empty out their contents on my bed which I was half-sure would break beneath the weight.

"Just a few minutes," I muttered, teeth pulled at my bottom lip, worrying it as I hovered at the crossroads of indecision. "Alduin takes forever to catch dinner anyway." He was a decent shot, far better than I was, but he was terribly fussy for a god. I had lost count of the times when he had rejected an elk or goat we were stalking because it was either too old, or too lean, or gods help me, too dirty. Eventually though, having to struggle with a mortal belly which made its needs loudly heard forced him to be somewhat less picky. Still, he usually took more than an hour to bring home the proverbial bacon. Shadowmere was standing guard at the entrance of the cave. The coast was absolutely clear for me to indulge myself.

'Just this once.' The decision was barely made when I began tearing at my armour, fingers fumbling in my haste as I unstrapped the buckles, unfastened the clasps, shrugging the warm leather from my skin before I kicked my boots off, sending one flying several feet away. My sword belt and Daedric blade I dropped in an unceremonious heap on the ground. I was sure I had ripped a seam or two in my undershirt and breeches as I yanked them off. Some part of me realised I was trembling a little with my need, with my greed, the rest of me pretty much didn't give a damn, only hesitating when it came to my smalls which I removed after a second glance and a few interminable moments of listening confirmed there was no movement outside.

With a muffled whoop of joy, I dove into the glistening pile of treasure. It bruised a little, for I had none of the hard scales of a Dovah, nor skin that could withstand steel. It was even a little cold. But the discomfort was nothing compared to the smooth caress of the septims as they slithered over my naked skin, to the shifting volumes of gold as I burrowed deeper, feeling them press into my flesh, fill the space I made as I rolled and stretched languorously, the intoxicating smell of wealth flooding my nostrils, seeping into my skin. I laughed softly as I lifted my hands, saw streams of gold flood from between my fingers. It was the closest to drunk that I had been to in a long, long time. So this was what the books meant, I thought giddily, my cheek pillowed on a gold ingot as I admired the sapphires and diamonds strewn in my hair. This was why dragons secreted their treasure away and guarded it with their lives.

I was so absorbed in the moment and my own pleasure that I didn't hear the stone door moving until it was too late. To my shame, I shrieked, sweeping my arms wildly towards my body to cover it, half-burying myself beneath a sliding wave of septims. Sithis and damnation, this would happen to me, a distant part of my mind cursed furiously. The rest of me though, was covered in a furious hot blush as I stared at the tall dark god standing in the entrance.

"Alduin, get out." Fierce and commanding was what I had been aiming for. Instead, I sounded half-strangled. No wonder that he stepped right in, golden eyes boring into mine, his face an almost impassive mask betrayed only by the tight clench of his firm jaw. Without taking his eyes from me, he reached out and tugged on the chain, the one that was meant to reactivate the hidden door. It was then that I realised how much trouble I was in.

"Are you deaf?" I demanded, ignoring the way my voice rose in pitch, fighting the sudden pit that had opened in my belly which threatened to take my heart along with it. Then, to my utter shock, Alduin slowly began pulling at the tie of one of his gauntlets. It hit the floor with a sound like thunder. My mouth went dry. Suddenly, there wasn't enough air in the room.

* * *

><p>It had been the moaning that had given her away, the soft audible sighs of deep pleasure that had rippled through his skin with all the fierce fineness of a keen blade. Through the stonewalls he could hear her and she made his blood boil the way only she could. Ignoring the deer carcass at his feet, Alduin headed to the far corner of the cave, guided by instinct, by smell, by the sound of Freyja. He found the chain, exposed completely, a tangle of moss lying in a heap below it. For a moment, he hesitated. Matters between him and the Dovahkiin were complicated, to say the least. They were making their steady way to High Hrothgar, albeit with some delays thanks to the numerous folk who constantly plied Freyja with requests that she should have rejected, and a Daedric lord or two who had seen fit to interfere with the Dragonborn. And through it all, Alduin had been dragged along, unable to leave her and head for the Monahven himself because he needed to see that the soft-hearted fool who fought with the ferocity of a Dovah got herself to High Hrothgar in one piece. He needed her to change him back, to undo the wretched Thu'um she had bound him with.<p>

He used to dream about killing her. Another low groan from behind the stone door wafted to his ears and Alduin shuddered, feeling the rise and hardening of his prison of flesh. Now, he dreamt very different dreams that had a habit of surfacing when there was nothing to do but watch her as they walked the wilds of Skyrim. They made him notice the starlight in her hair, the way the sun warmed her face and flushed her pale skin an appealing pink. The dreams were rubbing away at the corners of the fact that she was his archenemy, a baffling and abnormal mix of dragon and human. They were making it impossible for him to keep seeing her only in that light. If he had to be entirely honest though, that latter fact had occurred even before the dreams. It was the weakness of this mortal flesh, he thought furiously, grasping the handle of the chain so tightly that his hand ached. But the strength of desire with which he coveted her could only come from a Dovah. He pulled on the chain.

There was a muffled shriek, a wave of gold that covered the bare flesh he had caught a tantalising glimpse of, and wide blue eyes that held his captive. Under his gaze, a furious blush spread over Freyja's skin, beginning at her bare shoulders, staining her neck and cheeks. She tried sliding her legs further down, covering them with fat gold coins. She was angry and panicked. She looked indescribably delicious because he knew she was naked underneath all that gold. She also looked like prey. Instinct roared through his blood, ungoverned and unquestioned. Her hoarse demand that he get out hardly registered. Without a second thought Alduin jerked on the chain within the room, sealing it.

"Are you deaf?"

She started to sit up before sinking back down quickly. He could smell her adrenaline; her scent mingled thickly with the gold and jewels became a heady combination that made his head swim, that heated the very marrow in his bones. Her eyes widened further when he began unfastening his gauntlet. He heard an audible gulp from her as it dropped to the floor, a sharp intake of breath that pulled at him across the distance between them as he worked at the second one.

"W-what are you...doing?"

Somehow, he managed enough self-control to arch a brow at her. "Do you really need me to tell you that, Freyja?" His usual biting sarcasm was missing, reduced to a rough huskiness that reminded him of the low throaty growls and roars his kind issued just before and during mating.

She turned even pinker, closed her eyes briefly as he continued to remove his armour, leaving the pieces next to hers on the ground. "Okay, okay. If you want to...ahm...to roll in the gold as well, go ahead. Even though I found it first," she added, eyes flashing blue fire. "Just let me up."

His response was to unclasp the last buckle of his cuirass and very deliberately let it drop from his hands.

"Please?"

He chuckled, hands going to his waist. "And what if I want all the treasure?" he teased.

She actually growled before cutting off the sound abruptly, looking somewhat shocked. "That's not very fair," she said, making a very valiant effort to keep her voice steady as he shucked off the last pieces of his armour and boots. Briefly, he considered removing the rest of his clothing before deciding against it. Finding Freyja rolling and nestled in a pile of gold like any normal Dovah had been an eye-opener in more ways than one. Apparently her Dovah Sos and Sil ran stronger than he suspected. And with dragons, you never cornered one unless you wanted a vicious fight on your hands.

"You can have half," she conceded, "since we did handle those bandits together." He started to walk forward and her façade of calm broke. "Two thirds," she offered hastily, trying her best to squirm backwards through the heavy gold weighing her down without exposing herself. "And that includes the jewels," she threw out as a last desperate measure as he took his first few steps atop the small mountain of gold and started making his way towards her. "What in Oblivion is the matter with you? It's a good deal!"

Of course it was a good deal. Her problem was that he wanted to have everything. And he intended to start with her.


	2. The Smaug Effect: Part 2

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios and I own nothing at all except for the OC and plot. There is no profit made at all, really.

Summary: A series of AU one-shots featuring the misadventures of Freyja and Alduin as they make their way through Skyrim. Basically fun, fluff and crack prompts which will never be featured in Dragonrend.

Genre: Adventure/Humour

_A/N: The Muse is on some form of crack. Or maybe it's because I'm facing another no-writing drought once again. Anyway, here's the end of this short arc to do with dragons and their obsession with treasure. I hope you like it. _

_Sp1c3: *L* Oh, now that is lovely. Yes, a serving of eels is definitely in order. Midwinter Sun: Thank you for all the Freyduin (I saw this on Tumblr and it just stuck) love! I do believe I can do a little something with Miraak since this is AU. Guest: I can't help myself, *G* but admit it, you like it. Thedarkeuphie: Hahaha, yes, that she is indeed. But not without some wiles as well. _

**IMAGINE DRAGONS**

**II. The Smaug Effect: Part 2**

Alduin put his foot on the pile of gold and I felt my dragon blood boil. Just for a moment, mind you, but it was all I needed to feel that startling amount of rage, that resounding echo of "Mine!" that trumpeted like a war cry. At that point, it mattered little to me that I had no clothes on, he had no armour on and that he was going to reach me in a matter of minutes and I didn't think it was just to talk either. Then, Alduin shot me a smouldering look from beneath his insanely long and thick eyelashes, and my all too human impulses took over. I could feel my legs taking on the firm consistency of a melted sweetroll. If he made it all the way here, which he probably was, I was going to be like clay in a potter's hands and I pretty much didn't care how he stretched me or kneaded me or stroked my—

"Ouch," I muttered, licking the stinging wall of my cheek, which I had just bitten. Pain, in such situations, was always helpful. Experimentally, I grabbed a fistful of septims and flung them in Alduin's direction. Since it wasn't an arrow, my aim proved to be excellent and Alduin held up an arm to shield his face from the shower of gold. "You are going to pay for that, Dovahkiin," he murmured darkly. I gulped, loudly and shamefully from excitement rather than fear.

'Think, think,' I scolded myself. I had made him an offer that most people would have taken. Except that Alduin wasn't most people. He was a dragon. Light dawned. And like all dragons, Alduin would never lower himself to settling for a bargain. As the dragon god of destruction, he would most likely feel entitled to claiming everything here. 'Including me.' I fought the sudden urge to press my thighs together and squirm. It was just disgraceful and I ought to have felt more shame but in a way, it was a relief to be confronting the mammoth in the room that Alduin and I had been assiduously ignoring for several weeks now. I couldn't put my finger on the exact moment when it had happened. But suddenly, glances were exchanged that grew a bit too long before being abruptly cut off. He made less sarcastic remarks about my terrible cooking. The stories that he told shifted from tales of how he had mercilessly and messily dispatched his enemies to the beginning of this world when it had begun. When we practiced sword-fighting, I was suddenly a ball of knots, all too willing and unwilling to lay a hand on him, to correct his stances, his grip. I found that I had stopped talking at him; I talked to him as I would any companion on the road, except that of course, it wasn't in my nature to daydream about jumping said companion's bones every five minutes. Brynjolf was the sole recipient of that honour...or had been at least, until Alduin.

Who had come to a halt and was standing over me. Damn, damn, damn. I did what any ordinary red-blooded woman would do when confronted with six feet something of dragon god, lean muscle and chiselled good looks that she wasn't supposed to touch with a ten-foot pole.

"Freyja."

"Hmm?"

"Keeping your eyes shut is not going to make me go away."

Was he laughing? He sounded like he was trying not to. Damn him. "Maybe I'm hoping that you will get the message and get off my pile of gold and remove yourself from this place—"

Warm fingers wrapped around my upper arms and pulled me up, pulled me forward. I yelped, clutching my arms and the septims plastered against my skin tighter to my chest. "You were saying?" Alduin asked smoothly. I glared at him in return. "Gold and jewels suit you far better than clothing I must say." He picked a stray septim from its precarious resting place on my knuckle. Then he plucked another from just under my collarbone. I felt the added flush of heat that made his eyes shine just so.

"This is not a good idea," I said shakily. His thumbs were stroking over my skin. Back and forth, back and forth. I was acutely aware of how close he was like this, crouched over me, his knees planted firmly, implacably on either side of my body, almost caging me.

"I have to agree with that."

I raised my eyes to his. "I sense a 'but' coming."

He smiled. "We are dragons. We do what we want." Then he leaned down and kissed me.

I could never remember having been kissed. Watching couples sweetly brushing hands in daylight or grope each other openly in dark corners while I skulked by on the way to a target's house drew no similar recollection of having experienced such. "You can't possibly be a virgin," Vex had declared cynically. "You're not that bad on the eyes and ...well...who's a virgin these days? Life is too short for that." Neither of us had noticed Delvin in the shadows though and after that, I'd had to live with the title of Freyja the Frigid until Brynjolf got wind of it and assisted me in pitching Niruin, Cynric and Thrynn into the murky water of the Cistern. Delvin I had left to Vex and whatever she'd done had worked. He had spent the next week or so in the Ragged Flagon with his proverbial tail between his legs.

Somewhere at the back of my mind, I could hear Delphine and Esbern's horrified screams. So I pitched them into my mental equivalent of the Ebonmere and concentrated on the soft pressure of Alduin's mouth on mine.

He was sweetly hesitant, and somewhere between sighing into his mouth and giving in to the urge to run my tongue over his lower lip, I remembered that this was his first kiss too, if he hadn't been practising with anyone else behind my back. Given his propensity to look down the length of his nose at anything mortal though, I highly doubted that. One of his hands slipped from my arm to slide up my neck, his palm pressed against my racing pulse, fingers tangling gently with my hair before pressing against my scalp, angling my head as he thrust his tongue into my mouth. Swallowing my guttural groan, he pressed in eagerly as our tongues met in a messy wild clash that set those parts of me still buried beneath the gold on fire. I barely heard the sound of falling septims as I uncurled one arm from around my chest, fingers blindly seeking him, digging in as I latched onto his shoulder, slipping my hand beneath his thin shirt. Travelling the length of his collarbone, I moved my hand up, felt the apple of his throat bob when he swallowed hard as I lightly scratched a trail up to the underside of his jaw, splaying my hand wide to span it. And found the pressure points I was looking for.

"Enough." With superhuman effort, I pulled my mouth from his and promptly dodged as Alduin steamrolled over my wishes and went right back in for another kiss. His mouth ended up on my neck and I had to fight the urge to let my eyes roll up in my head and collapse with bliss so that he could have his wicked way with me. Obviously sex with a human might be a first for him but I had seen a couple of Dov having a go at it while I thanked Mara and Dibella as I crawled away to safety through the thick forest brush. Some things weren't that different.

And that was when I squeezed. Instantly he growled, drawing back and stopping when I applied pressure again. I tried not to show how I missed the feel of his flesh on mine, the warmth.

"You..." Golden eyes, richer and brighter than the septims, smouldered with fury for a moment. Then he blinked, let out a harsh exhalation and in spite of his anger, a smile weaved itself onto his mouth, lifting the corner. "You tricked me. I am impressed."

"All or nothing, Alduin. I win, this time." There was nothing he could do and he knew it. "Now, swear on Akatosh that you are going to walk out of here and leave me be."

"I sorely wish I had not shared that tale with you."

"Can't say I agree with that," I smiled sweetly at him. "Now promise me and I'll leave you conscious and with your dignity intact."

"This is not the end of things, Freyja." His hot gaze devoured me and I actually shivered. "But you have my word, upon Akatosh himself, that I will not pursue this matter for however long we stay here."

Barring any snowstorms, we would be leaving the cave first thing in the morning. Actually, scratch that. Snowstorms or no, we would be leaving. The next town was less than three miles away and Shadowmere had proven his ability to always find the right way time and time again. Yes, there was absolutely no reason why we couldn't leave.

The moment he resealed the entrance to give me privacy, I flopped back down on the gold, letting out a great gusty sigh. I had kissed the World Eater. I had tricked him too. And instead of feeling utmost horror and remorse, I was grinning like Nirn's biggest fool.

I was in so much trouble.


	3. Of Dragons and Sheep: Part 1

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios and I own nothing but the plot and the OC. There is no money made from this, really.

A series of AU one-shots featuring the misadventures of Freyja and Alduin as they make their way through Skyrim. Basically fun, fluff and crack prompts which will never be featured in Dragonrend.

_A/N: Okay, I am seriously backed-up. My mind is overflowing with ideas for Dragonrend; I can see, hear and practically taste the chapters leading up the big build-up at High Hrothgar and even to the very end. I know the last line of the story but by the Nine and the Daedra, the words will not come. It's all stuck in my head and wrestling with the words is like trying to resist Tom Hiddleston in a wet t-shirt. I have a fourth of Chapter 47 written out but I think I need a break. So here are some light-hearted crack/moments/drabbles which I hope are remotely funny. In case it's not clear, I'm referencing the dragons in Dragons: Riders/Defenders of Berk cartoon series and taking it a little further. Reviewers who offered prompts about potions and clothes, I'm working on it right now so hang tight. As always, thank you for reading and especial thanks for reviewing. I hope to get my Muse back in gear soon; I feel so guilty for leaving the story hanging._

**IMAGINE DRAGONS**

**III. Of Dragons and Sheep: Part 1**

It all started the day Jarl Balgruuf the Greater signed on the document that Proventus Avenicci had presented to him. News had come from Cyrodiil of a lucrative trade and Proventus, always eager and ready to increase Whiterun's coffers, had hit upon a scheme that he felt would make money. After all, Whiterun had the best weather of all the Holds; it felt perpetually like summer most months of the year and there were plenty of wide, grazing fields and sufficient numbers of people had expressed an interest in the new trade. "Whiterun will be the centre of a new and flourishing trade," Proventus declared as he vigorously rolled up the precious scroll which would then be delivered via courier to a particular merchant and trader in Skingrad that Proventus personally knew and had consulted prior to drawing up the proposal. "Lamb I am told, is succulent, as delicious and tender as any beef. The wool of the sheep is far softer than bear fur; think of the clothiers and how this will expand their business. I've heard of exotic cheeses that may be made from the milk of the sheep. Most useful animals..."

Balgruuf eyed his Steward with more than an ounce of amusement. But it sounded like a fair bargain, even though these strange woolly creatures who had never set a cloven hoof in Skyrim before were almost worth their weight in gold. Eventually, the profit reaped would be more than what he paid now and it was an offer that had come only through Proventus' contacts (and some bribes, not that he was going to question the Imperial about those). Maven Blackbriar had toyed with the idea but eventually discarded it. There was no one in Riften interested in raising sheep and the lands around the city were far too hostile, filled with giant spiders, bears and bandits. While Proventus nattered on about how Whiterun's trade would be revived, Balgruuf smiled with satisfaction.

Neither of them had anticipated the challenge that the dragons would present.

* * *

><p>At first, it had seemed fairly innocuous. It was not all that unusual to see the occasional dragon flying over the plains, even circling near Dragonsreach. The Dragonborn herself had sworn that she had vanquished Alduin in Sovngarde itself, had even summoned a massive scarlet dragon with amethyst streaked wings to fly her to the World-Eater's fabled eyrie. Nowadays, dragons left the Holds of Skyrim alone. They had traversed, at the Dragonborn's bidding, to the lands of the Altmer and most of the time, they kept the High Elves busy, too busy for them to be planning the conquest of the Empire and Skyrim.<p>

Therefore, Balgruuf did not feel worried that Freyja and her Greybeard husband, Aldin, were currently not in the city at the moment. He had no idea where his Thane had gone to; she was in the habit of disappearing and reappearing when she was most needed.

When the reports came of increased dragon sightings though, the Jarl did feel some slight concern though. It had been a week since the sheep had arrived and to the seasoned warrior, both in the battlefield and off it, there was no such thing as a coincidence. The matter clearly bore more investigating. Which was why he was currently standing at the highest window of Dragonsreach, spying on his investment.

"I hope this is not going to take all day. My Jarl."

That last part had clearly been added on as an afterthought, a very grudging afterthought. If Farengar got anymore ruffled, his wizard's hood was going to stand on end. That almost made Balgruuf grin, almost. He then elected to ignore the mage and focused his gaze once more through the marvellous looking glass which the latter had invented with the help of some ancient Dwemer scrolls which Freyja had unearthed. It was clearer than even the glass that adorned the palace windows, and had the amazing ability to magnify even the furthest object. The first time he had used it, Balgruuf had been so startled that he had almost dropped the precious lens. Farengar had snatched it before it hit the ground before cradling it to his chest like a child and glaring bloody murder at his Jarl. Still, he'd not been able to stop the latter from commandeering the use of the lens, which was especially useful now that Farengar had fitted it to a long, retractable tube-like apparatus of sorts.

"Because I have experiments to conduct. Important and old scripts with tiny, faded writings which this lens would be most useful for."

Balgruuf took his gaze off the two dragons circling the field over which the sheep were grazing. Pale blue eyes pinned Farengar like an alchemist would a torchbug to the table. To his credit, the mage did not squirm at all. But he did fall silent and let Balgruuf go back to dragon watching. "What are those winged beasts doing?"

Half a year later and the mage was still sulking. The Dragonborn had caught him trying to scrape scales and draw blood from the red dragon and by the time she had been done with him, it had been weeks before Farengar could sit without the aid of a cushion. Neither the Dragonborn nor the wizard had even spoken of what had passed but popular rumour had it that she had tossed him across the nearest ledge and had taken the sheath of her blade to his bottom while yelling something about childish behaviour being deserving of punishment that befitted a child. "They are watching the sheep. Again."

"How many of them this time?"

"Two on the mountain peaks, two more in the air. And now I spy a fifth coming in from the north."

"And it's not even midday. The same dragons as before?"

Farengar swallowed at the dry look that Balgruuf shot him. "Well yes, I am aware that most of them are either green, white, reddish-gold, with the exception of that red brute and Alduin himself..."

"They're not trained nor tame. They answer to strength, to the one who defeated their god. And yes, I recognise one of them. An Ancient Dragon I believe. Has a white scar down the side of his neck from a battle with Freyja."

"Nahagliiv," Farengar replied promptly.

"As for the others, I cannot say. They just seem to be contented watching, although some of them are flying rather low to the ground."

"And the sheep do not mind?"

"Less so then the shepherds and the hounds." Both had either run away screaming or had stood their ground yelling and baying at the dragons. Ironically, that had upset the sheep, sending them at a run over the field, the bobbing white coats like fat creamy clouds bobbing against an emerald sky.

"Hmm...the new livestock must be either incredibly lacking in intelligence or they are utterly and wholly unfamiliar with dragons."

"None have attempted to eat them so far. I fear if things continue like this, I may not be able to say the same of the men and the hounds."

"Where did the Dragonborn say she went to again?"

"She didn't."

"Oh." Farengar was silent for a moment. "Perhaps you might want to send out some couriers, put out a word to the other Jarls or High Queen Elisif."

If he wrote to Elisif only about the Dragonborn, she would be very disappointed. His trip to Solitude had resulted in an unexpected but very pleasant interlude with the beautiful young widow. She had grown much, had developed a spine and political acumen of her own that sufficiently intrigued him. In turn, he realised that she had always respected him for standing up to Ulfric and even Tullius. One thing had led to another and although he hadn't made it into her bed, mainly because neither of them was entirely ready for entirely different reasons, Balgruuf would not about to rule out the eventual probability of such an event. Perhaps it was time to send Elisif a letter or two. One for official business, and one for more private matters.

"Send word to the captain of the guards. I want a man up here every hour until something happens. I need to speak with Proventus and Irileth. And then I have some messages to write."

Horror blanched Farengar's face. "But my Jarl..."

A firm hand clapped him once on the shoulder. "It means that I have need of that lens of yours. I am sure those experiments and scrolls can wait."

Farengar managed to bite his tongue until Balgruuf was almost out of earshot. Then the cursing began. It was impressive enough to put even a pirate to shame. This time, Balgruuf did smile, and rather broadly at that.

He was not smiling though five hours later when a soldier came rushing down to the great hall, pale-faced and wide-eyed.

"My Jarl, the dragons are stealing the sheep!"

* * *

><p>"The dragons stole the sheep?" Freyja blinked in disbelief. "You mean they ate the sheep."<p>

Balgruuf ran a hand over his face. He looked like a man who had not slept in almost a week, a description that was rather close to the truth. Proventus looked as worn and a lot more irritated than he did. Irileth was absent; he had sent her out to commandeer the men and fortify the walls as best she could from marauding dragons hoping to snatch more sheep from Whiterun.

"No, he means they stole the sheep. Your dragons..." Proventus stopped when a very low but completely audible growl made itself heard. It was coming from the very tall, very lean and very armed and dangerous husband of the Dragonborn. One look at his face and the Steward could tell that he was also very unhappy with how his wife was being addressed. "The dragons," he continued in a more genteel tone, "scooped the sheep up with their talons and flew off with them. We're getting reports from hunters and travelling khajiit of sheep being sighted at dragon lairs such as Autumnwatch Tower, Ancient's Ascent. Farmers are being driven off their cultivated land by dragons who have deposited their sheep there and basically taken over the farm so that the animals can eat the crops. The other Jarls are complaining and saying we are responsible for this...this situation—"

"I do believe debacle was the word Maven used," Balgruuf cut in. "Is there anything either of you can do?"

Freyja turned to Alduin, whose face was an inscrutable mask. Then she turned back to the very tired Jarl. "I'd like to see these sheep, if you will. Lydia told me they're being kept inside the palace."

"In the dungeons and the storerooms below."

So that explained the smell. It was a comment Freyja made sure to keep to herself.

"I've also paid some residents with larger houses to keep a few sheep with them, as many as they can spare."

And the unhappy faces that she had seen, the few that she had spotted while walking through the districts. No wonder the city smelled faintly of some kind of manure. Alduin would have pinched his nose shut if he could have, but pride had won out over his more delicate sensibilities. It hadn't stopped him from complaining until they reached the great doors of the palace.

"I don't suppose you've seen a sheep before?" Freyja asked him quietly as they descended the steps into the lower bowels of the palace.

"I have no idea what manner of creature that might be."

"Alduin?"

"Yes?"

"Your face is turning blue."

The once and future god of destruction scowled at his wife. Then he took a deep breath that turned his face a shade paler. "I do not know what frightens me more, the stench or the fact that you can quite cheerfully abide it."

"It's not that bad." They reached the bottom of the stairs, arriving at a closed door. Freyja put a hand out, grasped the handle and pulled it open. Then she slammed it shut again. "I take that back." When her husband did not offer a smug rejoinder, Freyja knew that it was serious.

"You stay here and I'll go inside. It will take a few minutes at the most."

"Nonsense. Let us go in and get this over with."

They were interrupted when the door was kicked open by a very surly Fianna who was lugging two buckets of steaming brownish black muck that stank to Aetherius and probably Oblivion. Alduin managed not to shrink back in horror, although he moved very swiftly out of the way.

"As you were saying, you shall have a look at these creatures while I wait for you outside."

Any teasing remarks that she might have made perished very quickly when Alduin leaned down and brushed his thumb over her full lower lip. "When we go back to Breezehome, I will draw you a bath."

"Really?" Freyja knew she sounded slightly breathless but she didn't care.

"A hot one, near scalding. Just the way you like it."

"Mmm."

"Then I will scrub you clean." He nipped her ear and she shivered. "Every inch."

"I bet you would."

He grinned, looking at her from beneath his lashes and it made her heart skip. Then she drew in a deep breath, grimly wished it would sustain her during the course of this inspection while knowing it would not, pushed the door open and entered the dungeon.


End file.
